


the woman in black

by alwayskeepwriting (Kandai)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Altered Mental States, Canon Compliant, Episode Tag, Episode: s11e09 O Brother Where Art Thou, Experimental Style, F/M, Mind Control, Non-Consensual Kissing, Poetry, Psychological Trauma, Season/Series 11
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-12
Updated: 2015-12-12
Packaged: 2018-05-06 07:57:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5409032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kandai/pseuds/alwayskeepwriting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>it's always about women in black.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the woman in black

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer : Erik Kripke
> 
> Note : English still not my first language. I wrote this one to help me cope after last episode. Please check the tags; it makes this piece a lot darker than it is but it still deals with triggering material. Stay safe and good reading :)

somehow, it feels your entire life  
always come to this kind of scenario  
(it’s the same old song, you know what they say about losers  
and how their stories remains the same):  
  
the passenger seat is empty and the radio is too loud  
and there is a woman in **black**  
alone in a field  
and     _she is kissing you_.  
  
(charred lips, always tasting ashes  
and they weight on you like a coffin,  
the shroud in which you were burned, once, twice, how many times)  
  
they promise you – bliss, peace, all you ever wanted – but you know better, now  
you always feel it on your tongue  
the sweet, sour weight that comes with lies.  
it’s a woman in **black**  
(eyes, blood and **black** water in a stilted lake)  
and     _she is kissing you_.  
  
again.  
  
it’s not the first kiss life has stolen from you  
but it’s one of those things you can’t get used to it  
(you wish you could. you wish it could make it easier);  
now, death seems almost merciful  
because   _she is kissing you_  
and she taste like a burnt ceiling,  
dirt and rot  
served on a silver platter;  
you would know the feeling.  
  
and     _she is kissing you_  
as they always do…  
  
“make a deal, trade yourself away like you’re nothing more  
than the dirt it took to bury you, once, twice, so many times-  
i want you to come, they say, i want you to forget and take the knife  
to believe your own lies  
and fade away into oblivion  
and for Earth to forget you ever existed.  
i want to devour you, they always say, and you don’t know  
what kind of rotten thing you carry in your soul  
that makes them come running.”  
  
(moths to a dark flame, the lot of them  
and you’ll never get used to the feelings  
of their lips  
crushing your screams.)  
  
funny (horrible, same twisted and dark tales that have become your life) how it always come to this:  
a woman in **black**     _kisses you_  
she leaves you alone in a field and your mouth aches;  
bleeds in the midst of ashes she has left in there  
and you can never tell if she left you unbroken  
(mercy left in the stream of charred lips)  
or if she took everything you had  
with her.  
  
(you’re already dead)  
  
and that thing you can hear under your skin  
(thump- thump-)  
has never felt  
  
_emptier_.  
  
(oh, you wish it was true)


End file.
